


When the Clock Strikes Midnight

by NightwingsAngel



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Nightwing (Comics)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Bat Family, Complicated Relationships, Drinking, Explicit Language, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Hidden Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Sex, Jealousy, Light Angst, M/M, New Year's Eve, New Year's Kiss, One-Sided Attraction, Past Relationship(s), Possessive Bruce, Slade kind of likes Dick, So brief that if you blink you might miss it, brief mention of underage, robins
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-02
Updated: 2017-01-02
Packaged: 2018-09-14 03:35:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9158341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NightwingsAngel/pseuds/NightwingsAngel
Summary: Dick and Bruce have been dating secretly for awhile now. All their close friends and family know, but Bruce wants to keep their relationship hidden from the media. When a reporter manages to capture a picture of him and Dick out to lunch, with Dick kissing him on the cheek, the tabloids explode with rumors about Bruce Wayne and a taboo love affair with his ward. In an effort to save face, Bruce throws a New Year's party and brings a date that isn't Dick. He'd filled Dick in on the plan and thought they were on the same page, until Dick shows up with a date of his own and that date happens to be Slade Wilson, who seems unable to stop talking about his and Dick's past love affair.





	

**Author's Note:**

> So, I didn't mean for this story to be so long. I started it yesterday as a way to kill sometime before the New Years get together I went to. It developed into a much longer story than intended and is 23 pages long, according to my computer. I hope you all enjoy it and remember that feedback is always welcome :) Also, I only proof read the first half of this so I'm super sorry if there are any really horrible errors.

“Master Bruce, I really must insist you come upstairs and help me with tonight’s preparations,” the old Butler’s English accent was thick as he stood atop the stairs leading down into the Batcave. His arms were neatly folded behind him and his silvery eyebrows remained in a firm line as he scolded his first ward for what felt like the hundredth time that night, but was really only the eleventh. Dick should know, he’d been counting since the first-time Alfred had requested Bruce’s attention.  “These events simply do not happen on their own, Master Bruce, and if you think I will be pouring all the champagne myself you are delusional. Or have you forgotten the agreement we made when you first approached me about having your New Years shindig at the manor instead of Wayne tower this year?”

                “I remember, Alfred,” Bruce replied dully, without even so much as glancing away from the microscope he was using.  “I’ll be upstairs in a five minutes.”

                “That’s what you said fifteen minutes ago,” Alfred remarked.

                “And thirty minutes ago, and an hour ago, and an hour and fifteen minutes ago, and….” Dick was cut off with a hard glare from Bruce. He flashed the older man a grin, throwing his hands up behind his head and arching his lower back against the metal examining table he was leaning against. An IV was attached to his left arm and it tugged at his flesh when he’d raised the arm above his head. The tug was nothing, though. Not compared to the beating he’d taken from Killer Croc the night before. Really, he was lucky he’d come away with only some bruised ribs and a long gash across he back. His legs were a tad bit sore from the rough landing he hadn’t quite stuck when jumping off a building, and he was sure there was a bruise gracing his back from where Croc had hit him with his tail, but otherwise he was fine. More fine than he really should have been.

It wasn’t like he’d been planning on taking on the Croc when he left his nest yesterday. He’d set out when he’d intercepted a disturbance on the police scanner. It was supposed to be a simple public disturbance case with some possible domestic abuse. It had been so simple that he had almost decided not to respond at all and let Gotham’s finniest deal with it. Looking back, at how Croc had sprung from the sewer and tore four cops in half before he’d even gotten to the scene, he was glad he had shown up. If he had known it was croc when he’d headed out, though, he would have called for backup a lot sooner than he did.

“I’ll help as soon as I’m done here. There’s a new substance attached to this scale I pulled from Croc last night. It looks like a steroid combined with an unfamiliar substance. If I can identify the substance we might be able to pinpoint who gave Croc the steroids and catch them before you, or anyone of us, end up finding ourselves with other supersized villains,” Bruce stated.

Dick rolled his eyes, up towards the bats he could hear chirping in the stalactites lining the cave roof. “Croc’s back in Arkham and taking a break from the mission for a bit might do you some good B.”

Bruce’s only response was to grunt, which pulled a sigh from the younger male.

Dick lowered his arms and plucked the IV out of his left arm before tossing the needle on the examination table he’d been leaning against. Alfred raised a disapproving brow at the needle being thrown around but Dick was sure the butler would forgive him. Especially if he could get Bruce upstairs to help with the party preparations.

“Bruce,” Dick’s voice was soft, meant to be comforting and to keep his mentor off edge, when he approached the working man and rested his hands on the man’s shoulders. He could feel Bruce’s muscles tenses for a moment beneath his fingers before relaxing as Dick started tenderly kneading them. “Don’t forget that tonight is supposed to be to save face. You’ve invited half the journalists in the city here tonight, plus all of Gotham’s high and mighty, to end the rumors going around about us in the tabloids. Alfred can’t prepare for all those people on his own and if the party doesn’t get set up then there’ll be no party for you to bring your gorgeous date to, and then there won’t be any articles about billionaire playboy Bruce Wayne dating Miss Gotham.”

Bruce rolled his shoulders beneath Dicks’ hands as the shorter male attempted to work the stress out of them. A month ago some lucky reporter had captured a tender moment between the duo when they’d been out for lunch. Dick had been in his police uniform and he had met Bruce at a local Italian joint for some ravioli on Bruce’s lunch break. The two had been secretly dating for a half a year but the lack of time they’d recently been able to spend together had made them sloppy. Of course, the picture wouldn’t have been too incriminating if Dick hadn’t been placing a kiss on Bruce’s cheek when the photo had been snapped. Now the tabloids were full of rumors about Bruce Wayne and his former ward. The worst were the ones speculating that Bruce and Dick had been involved when Dick had first come to the manor. As if. Bruce wouldn’t have ever touched him when he was a child. Bruce hadn’t even felt that kind of love for him tell much later in their lives.

It’d taken a shaky love confession from seventeen year old Dick to even get Bruce asking himself if he’d felt the same way about his ward as Dick did for him. Then it was still years later before the two had actually hooked up. Bruce had spent the majority of the years between their hook up and Dick’s confession trying to convince Dick that what he felt was just a phase. It’d taken a near death experience for Bruce to admit his feelings for Dick and grow the balls required to kiss the younger man when he’d awoken from the coma the experience had put him in.

Now, though, the tabloids weren’t helping their relationship. It’d been fun at first, the sneaking around. Dick had almost felt like a teenager again, but it grew old fast. Having to sneak time together, to act like father and son in public, mentor and former protégé at night, and to escort various women to various social events just to keep the journalists off their tails was starting to really grind Dick’s gears. He just wanted to be able to openly admit that Bruce was his and that he was Bruce’s, but Bruce didn’t want that.

When the first article about them had been published, with that damned picture accompanying it, Dick had approached Bruce about coming clean to the public. He’d argued that it didn’t mater what the press thought or what people said. Bruce hadn’t committed any crime by them being together, Dick wasn’t Bruce ward anymore, and their private lives really weren’t any concern of the public.

Bruce had stated that yes their private lives weren’t any concern of the public and that’s why he didn’t want to share it with them. He claimed that the rumors would only get worse and that their lives would become a roadside attraction if they admitted to their relationship. Dick had his own apartment, his own career, his own life outside of the manor and Bruce told him that all that would be affected if the press found out the truth about them. He claimed that Dick wouldn’t be able to go anywhere without being bombarded by journalists. Dick claimed that he’d dealt with that before when he’d first lived at the manor. Bruce reasoned that Dick would become a target for anyone after Bruce Wayne. Dick reasoned that Bruce had more than trained him well enough to deal with anyone who thought they could kidnap Dick Grayson. Bruce remarked that Dick’s career would be affected because his face would be well known and it could hurt any undercover cases he wanted to take. Dick remarked that Gordon didn’t often assign him undercover cases for that very reason…well, that and that Gordon seemed to think that since Nightwing handled the rough cases at night he should get more relaxed ones during the day.

It didn’t mater what reasons Bruce gave for not revealing their secret, Dick always countered them. This lead to them arguing, which lead to Dick retreating to his own apartment for awhile and doing patrol alone, which led to him being reluctant to call in for help when he took on Killer Croc, which led him to where he was now. So what, he was giving in. It was easier than fighting Bruce on this one. He’d support Bruce if he thought it was best for them to not expose their relationship. He’d help prepare for the party and show up and smile when Bruce introduced him to his date, who would no doubt be wearing a sparkling gown and Dimond earrings. He could play the role assigned to him, but he needed Bruce to do the same because if Bruce didn’t then the whole charade would crumble.

Bruce pushed away the microscope he’d been bent over and rolled his shoulders one more time beneath Dick’s still working fingers. The blue bird allowed his fingers to slide from Bruce’s body like water over rippling muscles when the taller man moved to stand.

“What time is it?” Bruce pinched his nose as he approached the stairs Alfred was standing on.

“Nearly four, sir,” Alfred informed. “When will you be departing to pick up your date?”

“Seven thirty.”

Dick followed behind Bruce like a second shadow as the man gracefully climbed the stairs.

“And you, Master Dick?”

“I won’t be bringing a date tonight, Alfie. I do have to go home and change for the evening though. I’ll be back shortly after the party starts. However, I’ll stay to help you set up a bit before I leave,” Dick stated.

“That won’t be necessary,” Alfred shook his head. “Master Bruce and I can handle the preparations from here out. You go on home and prepare yourself for the evening.”

“At four? How much time do you think I need to primp, Al?”

“You will need the extra time if you are to procure a date for this evening.”

“I don’t need a date, Al. I thought I’d browse the crowd. Pick from the flock, you know?”

“A sturdy plan of action,” Bruce approved.

“Master, Dick,” Alfred’s tone was sharp with disapproval as he led their way out of the hidden passageway and into the Wayne sitting room.

“Bruce, back me up here,” Dick requested.

“Dick not having a date could help us more than him having one,” Bruce stated. “If the press see him single and mingling as the happy-go-lucky kid they’ve grown to know, they might realize that nothing has changed between us.”

“Yet, something has changed between you, Master Bruce.”

“Yes, but the press doesn’t need to know that.”

Alfred gave a sigh. “If you say so, Master Bruce.”

“Seriously, Al. Your concern is noted, but I’ll be fine. It’s be awhile since I’ve been free to mingle at a party. I should use not having a boyfriend tonight to my advantage,” Dick grinned.

Bruce grunted, “Just remember that it’s a rouse.”

“Scared I’ll go home with someone other than you?” Dick taunted.

The scoff that Dick got in return to his comment caused his heart to flutter a little. “All though we both know you could if you wanted to I was more referring to you being careful for there will be many people attending tonight that would love the chance to have you in their beds.”

“Tell me something that isn’t new,” Dick rolled his eyes. “Relax, B. I know how to work these events. I’ll put on a smile, kiss some hands, drink some champagne, and do some harmless flirting. When morning comes, Your date will hit the tabloids, my antics will be overlooked -as usual -and I’ll still be yours.”

“And you’ll go back to pretending not to mean anything more to each other than mentor and ward,” Alfred  spoke passive aggressively.

                Alfred walked into the kitchen, with both Bruce and Dick behind him. He stopped at the island, where an array of champagne flutes were set out. Grabbing a towel, he tossed the fabric to Bruce and instructed him to make sure the glasses were polished. Bruce grumbled but otherwise went about the task.

                “You sure you don’t an extra pair of hands?” Dick offered his aid one last time.

                “We are fine,” Alfred assured. “Master Damian and Master Tim will be home anytime now and they will be helping as well.”

                “Okay,” Dick waved at the two men. “I’ll see you tonight then.”

                “Farewell, Master Dick and do think about bringing a date,” Alfred bid his second ward good bye for the time being.

                “Be sure to tie your bowtie right!” Bruce called out as Dick departed.

                Dick’s car was parked right out front, where he’d left it the night before. He entered the blue Maserati and turned on the radio on his way down the driveway. Almost immediately Dick’s ears were meant with a tidal wave of who’s-who in Gotham.

                “The real couple to be watching this season is Bruce Wayne and Richard Grayson. Have you seen the tabloids, Lonny?” A female radio host was saying.

                “I sure have, Sue,” Lonny, the male host, responded back. “Rumors say that last week Wayne and his former ward were spotted holding hands in the park.  With Wayne hosting his annual New Years party tonight it will be interesting to see who will show up with him. Will we be seeing Grayson on his arm or the lovely Kate Willton? Like wise, actress Shawna Edwards had recently been caught in a scandal involving her publicist, a swimming pool full of jello, and a very angry llama. Stay tuned to find out more.”

                Dick groaned. He’d love to know who the radio’s source was for him and Bruce holding hands in the park. He and Bruce hadn’t gone to a park together since he was ten and last week Dick had barely even had time to go out anywhere. I didn’t matter though, after the party no one would be talking about Bruce Wayne and his scandalous love affair with his former ward. Instead, everyone would be talking about Bruce Wayne and his hot new girlfriend, the lovely Miss Gotham, Kate Willton.

                Dick had to fight the urge to slam his head into the steering wheel as he thought of Kate Willton on Bruce’s arm. She’d be smiling in her overly shiny gown. Diamonds would dangle from her ears and around her neck. Her dark brown hair would be put up in an elegant bun and there would be no flaw in her makeup. Everyone would faun over her. Bruce may even present her with a Tiffany bracelet. Of course he’d say it was because he had to keep up his playboy persona but Dick would still sit by silently jealous as she walked around with a bracelet Bruce bought for her on her arm while she was on Bruce’s arm.

                It’s not that Dick wanted a bracelet. He wanted Bruce. He wanted to be recognized as Bruce’s, but instead he’d been condemned to spending the whole event flirting with people he really didn’t care about. Unless…he perked up at the thought of Alfred’s words. If he were to bring a date then he could ignore most of the guests and possibly even Bruce. With his attention on a date, he wouldn’t be watching Bruce and his own date. Right? Yeah, maybe a date would be good, and he knew just who to call. Someone Bruce would dislike seeing around Dick as much as Dick would dislike seeing Kate Wilton around him. A certain, Slade Wilson.

               

~*~*~*~

                Dick stood in front of the mirror in his bathroom. Try as he might, he couldn’t get his bowtie to tie correctly. He’d tied it, untied it, and retied it several times before just giving up and staring at his reflection in the mirror. He’d parted his dark hair to the side and slicked it with gel before making sure he was wearing enough cologne to cover up the gel’s actual aroma. Other than his tie, his suit was perfectly put together. He’d even ironed the tux so there wasn’t a wrinkle in sight. Alfred would be proud…if he could get the damn tie done.

                “You sure this is a good idea?” A deep voice asked from outside the bathroom. Dick could picture the man messing with his cufflinks and straightening his jacket as he spoke. “You know I enjoy tormenting Bruce, but I don’t want to cause a falling out between you two.”

                “It’s fine,” Dick swung the bathroom door open to face Slade, who was leaning against the wall across from his bathroom door. The man’s hands were shoved into the pockets of his tux pants and his silvery beard was groomed. Posed like that, Dick could almost see him being on the cover of a business magazine. “If it causes any problems than it’s my problem, not yours. I honestly, kind of hope it causes a bit of a problem.”

                Slade raised an eyebrow. “Why’s that pretty bird?”

                Dick sighed. He reached up to run a hand through his hair before remembering that he’d just gelled it and awkwardly lowered his hand back down to his side. “He could use a dose of his own medicine.”

                Slade chuckled and stepped forward to grab hold of the two sides of Dick’s bowtie. He tied the black fabric as he continued to speak. “Am I to assume the rumors are true then? Between you and Bruce?”

                “…Yeah…” Dick hesitated then realized that Slade had spoken about him and Bruce so casually. “You aren’t surprised?”

                “Kid, I’ve known about your feelings for the Bat since I took you under my wing all those years ago. Even when you and I were together I knew you’d one day end up back with him. I never told you this, but there were nights when you were sleeping by me that you’d say his name in your sleep.”

                Heated flooded Dick’s face at Slade’s words. “R-really? Sorry.”

                Slade waved Dick’s apology off and brushed lent from the younger man’s shoulders. “So, Bruce is bringing a date that’s not you to this party?”

                “Yeah. He wants to fix the rumors that are going around about us.”

                “You mean the rumors that aren’t rumors at all.”

                “Yeah. Those.”

                “And you don’t want to fix them?”

                Dick let out a soft growl. “No. I want him to admit to everyone that we’re together, but he won’t. He has a whole list of reasons why we shouldn’t tell anyone and it doesn’t matter that I’ve countered all of them. You know Bruce, though. He’s nothing if not a bit paranoid.”

                “A bit? He’s got a backup plan for it someone putting itching powder in his underwear,” Slade mocked. “But, if it’s payback you want, you called the right guy.”

                “We can’t do anything too harsh.”

                “Did you give each other date rules or something?”

                “Nah. As far as I know, the only rule he has for tonight is that I don’t go home with anyone…and I’m not entirely sure that rule applies to him too.”

                “Well,” Slade smirked, “you know what they say, pretty bird. Rules are meant to be broken.”

                “I’m not going home with you tonight, Slade,” Dick grinned. As much as he liked the idea of breaking the one rule Bruce gave him for the night, he wouldn’t. He’d promised Bruce he’d still be his in the morning and he really didn’t want anyone else besides Bruce. Even if he just left with Slade and didn’t actually do anything he’d still feel bad for making Bruce think they had.

                “I’m not saying you have to, but we could make him think you are. He knows you and I have a certain…history,” Slade’s smirk grew. “Use it to our advantage and we’ll have your bat wishing he’d never taken an actress to the party instead of you.”

                “She’s a model. Miss Gotham, actually. Not an actress.”

                Slade chuckled, “My mistake, pretty bird. My point still stands.”

                Dick gave a smile of his own. “You know, you might have something with this plan. Okay, we’ll do tonight your way, but we stop the whole charade if I say to.”

                “Of course.”

 

~*~*~*~

                Bruce Wayne’s New Years party was in full swing when Dick and Slade arrived. Slade pulled his car up the circular drive and parked it along the side before opening Dick’s door for him. The classical music meant for dancing could be heard drifting out of the open door of the manor as guests filed their way inside. A put together Pennyworth stood by the door, greeting guests and directing them towards the coat closet.

                Dick slipped his hand in Slade’s as they walked up the drive, but Slade broke the hold to rest one of his arms around the younger man’s waist and whispered into the blue-eyed boy’s ear, “Hand holding is for teenagers, pretty bird.”

                Dick felt himself being pulled even closer to Slade as they passed by a bright red Bentley that Dick recognized. The car was sure evidence that Jason had made his way to the party that night as well, no doubt because of Tim, who he’d been involved with for almost a year now. He eyed another car, this one a sleek silver, as they got closer to the door. It was the one Bruce had told Alfred earlier that day that he’d be taking to pick up his date. The blue bird wrinkled his nose as he passed by it. He could almost smell Kate Willton’s French perfume clinging to the car. He’d have to ask Alfred to have it deep cleaned when the night was over.

                “Master Richard, I see you brought a date after all,” Alfred greeted them at the door.

                “Hello, Pennyworth,” Slade greeted the other man. “It’s a pleasure to see you again.”

                “Likewise, Mister Wilson,” Alfred stated dully before turning his attention back to Dick. “Master Bruce has been scanning the crowd for you for nearly thirty minutes.”

                “I’m sorry. We were running a bit late,” Dick apologized.

                “Ha, yeah!” Dick squeaked as Slade suddenly grabbed his rear. “I couldn’t keep my hands off him. Sorry about that, old chap.”  

                Alfred raised a brow at Dick, who was blushing a red so bright he almost matched Jason’s car.

                “Ha, ha,” Dick’s laugh was forced, humorless.

                “You’re going to have to do better than that, pretty bird, if you want your bat to believe there’s something between us,” Slade whispered to his date as they moved further into the manor.

                Away from the door there was no breeze from the night and Dick almost missed it with all the bodies bustling about. Even with the air on it was hot. These parties always were, but with Slade at his side the heat was almost unbearable. Dick’s collar itched. He should have thought this through more. Bringing Slade to keep his attention away from Bruce seemed like a good idea at first but then Slade had to go up the ante and Alfred gave him that pointed look as they’d left him at the door. Maybe Dick was toeing the line a bit too much.

                “Dick!” Tim was suddenly at his side, along with Jason. The two of them were dressed much like Dick, in tuxes and with their hair perfectly combed. Jason, however, was tugging at the collar of his shirt. His eyes scanned the room around them as Tim proceeded to give Dick a hug. A nearby photographer snapped a picture of the two brothers hugging and then proceeded to stand nearby, no doubt looking for another photo worthy moment.

                “Hey, Timmy,” Dick grinned at his shorter brother while pulling Jason in for a half hug. “Jay. When’d you two get here?”

                “I’ve been here since five,” Tim stated, “But Jason only arrived twenty minutes ago.”

                “I was aiming to be an hour late but baby bird here called me freaking out because I wasn’t on time,” Jason teased.

                “If I hadn’t you wouldn’t have ever shown up,” Tim stated. “You’ve been looking for excuses to avoid this party all week.”

                “I’ve been looking for excuses all _month_ ,” Jason corrected. “Ever since Al first asked if I was coming with you.”

                “Seriously, what else would you be doing right now if you weren’t here?” Tim challenged.

                “Cleaning my guns, throwing popcorn at the TV, drinking with Roy and Kori, playing poker with Roy and Kori, hitting up a strip club…the list could go on and on. If I wasn’t here the night would hold a plethora of opportunities for fun.”

                “That last thing you listed better be false.”

                Jason chuckled and dropped a kiss to the top of Tim’s head. “You know the only person I like to watch strip is you.”

                “Ah, guys, gross,” Dick joked but was pleased that this time it was Tim’s face that went red instead of his own.

                Tim placed a well practiced, pitiful punch on Jason’s right shoulder before scolding, “You promised you’d be nice to me tonight.”

                “I was being nice,” Jason’s mischievous smirk was on display for all nearby to see. “If you think about it, I was complimenting you. Your body is so fine that I don’t even want to see someone else’s slid around a pole.”

                “I hate you,” Tim remarked dully, to which Jason gave a hearty laugh.

                “I know just what you mean, Jason,” Slade gave a deep chuckle of his own. “Once I saw Dick swing his tight little self around a pole, no one else could pull the same reaction from my body.”

                And there was that damn blush again. Dick wanted to run upstairs and hide as Jason laughed with Slade.

                Tim was giving Dick a questioning look. His eye brows were furrowed and his lips posed as if asking Dick if he’d really put on a show for Slade. Dick was almost ashamed to admit that he had. Back when Dick was barely legal, he’d done quite a few things with Slade. He hoped they all wouldn’t be brought up that night because some of them were worse than a pole dance. Some of them involved gags and roleplay.

                “Those acrobatic skills of his aren’t just for the villains of Gotham, if you know what I mean,” Slade winked and Tim screwed his face up at the thought.

                “Okay, that’s enough,” Dick cut the conversation off. “There’s a photographer lurking behind us and four journalists within earshot. I don’t need tomorrow’s headline to read, the Dick Grayson: The Prince of Kinks.”

                “It’d be better than the headline I saw this morning,” Jason sipped from a flute of champagne he was holding. “Did you know you and Bruce are dating?”

                “So I’ve heard,” Dick remarked.

                “I don’t see how they could be,” Slade said loud enough for a journalist who’d stopped walking upon hearing their conversation to hear, “Since I’ve bene with Richard for the past month. The guy’s barely had any time with you, let alone had enough time to go on dates with Bruce Wayne.”

                “That’s true,” Tim caught on to the charade and joined in. “Since we’re on the topic, I would like my brother back soon. We’ve been trying to go see a movie for weeks now, but he always seems busy with you.”

                “Have you ever tried to keep your hands off your brother? It’s hard. He’s just got such a fine ass. How can you not want to squeeze and play with it all day?”

                “Very easily, actually.”

                “Yeah, I guess, being his brother you don’t have that problem. Though Jason clearly has that problem with you.”

                “Oh my God!” Tim explained while Jason choked on his champagne. “I don’t have to deal with this. Dick, I’m going to get some of Alfred’s bacon wrapped smokies, you joining me?”

                “God, yes,” Dick breathed, glad for the excuse to leave Slade’s side for a second.

                “Bruce’s been looking for you,” Tim spoke as he and Dick slid between the people blocking them from Alfred’s table of delicious appetizers. “He’s asked me several times already if I’ve seen you.”

                “I’ll go find him in a bit,” Dick stated, “but right now I don’t really want to see him with Kate.”

                “Just think of it like a mission. You’re playing a role, nothing more.”

                “That’s what I keep telling myself but I’d be lying if I didn’t say this whole thing makes me irritated. Is it so bad that I want to be able to date my boyfriend in public?”

                “No. I think anyone would. I know that I wouldn’t like Jason parading around here with someone else on his arm,” Tim grabbed a bacon wrapped snack from the appetizer table.

                “I’m hoping Bruce gets just as jealous,” Dick admitted, swiping a snack himself.

                “That’s why Slade is here,” Tim stated. “I know, but be careful. You’re trying to make Bruce jealous. With an older man whom you’ve had past relations with. You’re playing with fire.”

                “I won’t get burned.”

                “I know you won’t, but Slade might.”

                “He’ll be fine.”

                “Fucking move! Asshole!” Tim sighed as Jason’s voice rose above the softly playing music. Looking back towards where he and Dick had come from, he could see Jason and Slade pushing their way through the crowd.

                “Speak of the devil,” Tim said to Dick as Jason and Slade finally reached them. “What took you two so long?”

                “We got stuck in a mambo line,” Jason remarked sarcastically. “what the hell do you think? Bruce invited too make fucking people.”

                “He needed as many people here as possible,” Dick attempted to defend.

                “He wouldn’t if he’d pull his head out of his ass,” Jason commented. “I say hit him were it hurts. You’ve got Slade here. Use him.”

                “Yeah, pretty bird,” Slade slid up behind Dick, his breath hot on the younger man’s ear as he turned the blue bird to look out at the dancing crowd. Coming towards them, from across the room, was Bruce and hanging from his arm was Kate Willton. Dick’s heart stung as he noted that one of Bruce’s hands was on Kate’s ass while his other was holding a delicate champagne flute between his fingers. Her red lips were smiling and the dress she was wearing was candy apple red. The sequins on her dress shimmered beneath the lights and tiny diamonds encircled her neck in a collar fit for a prized house cat.

Dick swallowed harshly when Slade’s breath once again tickled his ear. “Use me.”

Oh, he would use him. He would use him to make Bruce so jealous that he wouldn’t be able to even look at his date the rest of the night. As Bruce neared them, clear blue eyes made a point of finding the darker ones of their mentor before taking hold of Slade’s hand and pulling him out on the dance floor. Bruce wanted the press to think they weren’t together? Well, Dick would give them every reason not to think so.   

 

~*~*~*~

                Dick managed to avoid having a conversation with Bruce for most of the night. After leaving him to dance with Slade, he’d made sure to put on quite the show for Bruce and all the beloved journalists he invited to his party. He’d started out simple enough as the music had been classical piano. His hands had rested on Slade’s shoulders while the other man’s had rested on his waist, but as the music picked up in tempo and eventually slid into a more modern song, Dick became more free with his moves.

                Turning himself in Slade’s arms, the blue bird grinded back against the man behind him. The music was still too soft to permit full out grinding, but he rubbed his ass in small circles against Slade’s front. The smirk that came to his face when Slade’s hands grabbed his waist harshly couldn’t be helped. He threw his head back against Slade’s shoulder and grinned up at the other man.

                “Steady there, boy,” Slade’s voice was husky. Hot and heavy like it use to get when he’d had Dick laid out in their bed and was trying to restrain from pounding Dick into the mattress.

                “What, don’t you like it?” Dick taunted and pressed his ass against the other man harder.

                “You know I do,” Slade all but growled. “That’s the problem.”

                Dick laughed and swiped a flute of champagne from a socialite walking by. The guy he stole the drink from gave a grunt of dislike before a light went off indicating that a photographer had just gotten another picture of Dick Grayson and his older date. Dick’s grin only widened as he imagined a picture of him grinding against Slade Wilson on the cover of every Gotham tabloid. 

                Slade swung Dick around so their chests were pressed together. “We should go get refreshments.”

                “I have refreshments.”

                “Ones you haven’t stolen from someone.”

                “Ah,” Dick’s bottom lip jutted out as he full on pouted, “but these taste better.”

                “You’ve stolen several of those in the last hour. You need some water.”

                “No I don’t,” Dick continued to pout as Slade led him off the dance floor. “I’m perfectly fine.”

                “Yeah, that’s why you just spilt champagne all over yourself.”

                “What? I didn’t…” Dick looked down, only to realize that the glass he’d been holding was now empty and that there was wet spot on his suit jacket. “Oh…oops. Alfred’s going to be mad.”

                “I think Alfred will be the least of your worries if Bruce finds out you’re drunk.”

                “I’m not drunk. I’ve only been drunk off champagne once…twice…” Dick’s brows furrowed. “That was a very long time ago. I don’t get drunk anymore. I get tipsy.”

                “Well you’re going to me tipsy-ing all over this place if you don’t get something in you that isn’t alcohol.”

                “Heeeeey, joking’s my thing. Take that joke back,” Dick whined.

                Slade pushed Dick into a chair near the appetizer table. “Stay here.”  

                “Stay here,” Dick mocked as Slade left to find him some water. He rolled his head back and stared up at the ceiling, humming along to the music playing.

                “Richard?” Bruce’s voice had Dick rolling his head forward. It took him a moment to focus his gaze on his former mentor.

                Bruce was standing in front of Dick. Kate was still beside him but no longer holding on to his arm as he knelt to assess Dick’s condition. His dark blue eyes roamed Dick’s form from head to toe before settling on Dick’s own cerulean gaze. The corners of Bruce’s mouth turned downward as he reached out to brush some of Dick’s dark strands away from his forehead.

                “Richard, are you alright? How much have you had to drink?” Bruce asked softly before turning to his date and requesting, “Kate, dear, could you please find Alfred for me. I believe my son is going to be ill.”

                “Of course,” Kate was gone before she’d hardly finished speaking and then Bruce’s voice was back to being directed at Dick and this time it was stern.

                “You’ve drank too much tonight. I’ve seen you take several drinks while on the floor with Wilson.” Was it Dick’s imagination of did Bruce spit Slade’s name?

                “I’m fine. Slade went to get me a drink.”

                “Water, I hope.”

                “I hope not,” Dick giggled. “Water’s no fun.”

                “What has gotten into you? When I said this event was to get the press off our tails I didn’t think you’d be so willing to put your tail against someone else,” Bruce grumbled as he dabbed at Dick’s head with a tissue.

                “Huh? Oh you mean when I danced with Slade? That was nice. I haven’t danced like that with anyone in a long time. Mmm, it was nice.”

                A rumble sounded within Bruce’s chest but before he could say anything in return to Dick, Slade was kneeling beside the chair and handing Dick a glass of cool water.

                “Drink this, pretty bird,” Slade cooed as he guided the glass to Dick’s lips.

                Bruce’s fists clenched and unclenched. He took a breath to steady himself, having to fight the urge to punch Slade for the way he’d been touching Dick that night. Try as he might, Bruce had been unable to keep his attention on his date once Dick had pulled Slade onto the dance floor. He’d seen every agonizing moment of his boyfriend grinding his ass against the other man.

                Bruce caught Slade’s wrist as the older man reached out to touch Dick’s thigh. “Keep your hands off him, Wilson.”

                The chuckle Slade gave was a challenge. “What you going to do about it, Wayne? I saw you watching us on the dance floor. You know he likes my hands on him.”

                “Bruce, I found Alfred,” Kate and Alfred rushed to the three men gathered at the chair.

                “Bloody hell, Master Richard,” Alfred sighed. “What have you done to yourself? We should get you up stairs to your room. Come, I’ll help you up the stairs.”

                “No,” Dick pushed Alfred’s hands away. “I want to stay here.”

                “Pretty bird,” Slade cooed. “Would it help if I escort you to your room?”

                Bruce fought back another growl and forced himself to allow Kate to take hold of his hand while Slade began to caress Dick’s inner thigh.

                “Mmm,” Dick hummed. “I wanna dance.”

                “We’ve dance enough tonight.”

                “It’s not even midnight. I have to be here for midnight.”

                “Why’s that, pretty bird?”

                Dick giggled. “New Years kiss.”

                Slade chuckled, Alfred smirked, Kate giggled, and Bruce…Bruce wanted to send everyone home, haul Dick upstairs, and spend the New Years reminding him that he belonged to him and not Slade.

                “I’ll tell you what. If you can stand then I’ll dance with you until midnight,” Slade tried to reason.

                “Okay,” Dick stood, shakily. He only managed to stand for a few seconds before collapsing back into the cushioned chair Slade had brought him to.  

                “This is a bad idea. He should go to bed,” Bruce stated.

                “He’s a big boy, Wayne,” Slade remarked. “He can make his own decisions.”

                “Yeah, that’s right,” Dick grinned. “Hey, Slade, you know how we talked about me not going home with you tonight?”

                “Yeah.”

                “I changed my mind. I could use a ride home after this.”

                “What?” Bruce all but yelled, which drew the attention of several nearby guests.  

                “Don’t worry, pretty bird, I’ll take care of you when this is all over.”

                “Like hell you will,” Bruce grabbed hold of Dick’s arm and pulled him away from Slade.

                Slade smirked while Kate gave Bruce a questioning look and said, “Bruce?”

                Bruce took a moment to compose himself before saying, “My ward is in no condition for the rest of tonight’s festivities. Wilson, will you be so kind as to keep miss Willton entertained while I attempt to sober up the boy?”

                “But Bruce?” Kate began.

                “I promise I’ll find you before midnight,” Bruce swore to his date.

                Slade took hold of Kate’s arm gently. “I expect the same promise from you, pretty bird. If you aren’t passed out by that point.”

                “Save a kiss for me,” Dick giggled in response.

                “Should I heat up a pot of coffee, sir?”  Alfred inquired once the two dates had departed for the dance floor.

                “No, just another cup of water,” Bruce stated. “He’ll be fine in a bit. This isn’t the worst he’s been.”

                “Then may I inquire why you didn’t let Wilson take care of him? If your goal is to assure the press that you two are not dating then perhaps you should have allowed his date to cater to him instead of doing it yourself.”

                “Didn’t you see how Slade was holding Dick on the dance floor? He can’t be trusted around him.”

                “I did, sir, but I also saw that it has been Master Dick that has initiated the majority of his and mister Wilson’s interactions this night.”

                Bruce sighed. “If you hadn’t suggested he bring a date, none of this would have happened.”

                “On the contrary, it would have happened with a stranger. At least we know that Dick brought someone he deems trust worthy to help handle him. Even if you, yourself don’t find him trustworthy.”

                “And you do?”

                “I did not say that. I find Slade Wilson to be a poor example of human kind. He’s a villain, a criminal, and I had relations with Master Dick when he was of a questionable age. I do no more trust him than I can throw him, but Master Dick does, and he needed someone he felt would support him tonight,” Alfred informed. “I knew seeing you with Miss Willton would hurt him, which is why I suggested he bring someone. He needed a distraction. Clearly it wasn’t enough of one, but I do not fault him or Slade for trying.”

                Bruce hung his head as Alfred walked off with Dick’s empty water glass. He had known that tonight wouldn’t be easy on Dick, but he hadn’t thought Dick would retaliate in such a way. After all, Dick was use to seeing Bruce with women. He’d seen Bruce bring a date to every gala and event the duo attended. Yet, only a hand full of those times did Dick bring a date as well.

                Dick often preferred to mingle among the crowd instead of tying himself down to a date he didn’t care for. That’s what was getting to Bruce the most that night. He’d expected Dick to flirt and dance with random party goers. He’d even expected the younger man to taunt Bruce with his antics. What he hadn’t expected was for Dick to show up with Slade Wilson -who Bruce was well aware he had past relationship with -and act like the villain was the best thing since sliced bread.  Bruce would be lying if he said that seeing Dick hanging off Slade’s arm, giggling, grinding, and over all provoking the older man hadn’t struck a cord within him. He’d felt heated jealousy flare up the moment he realized his boy’s ass was against the other man’s crotch. Slade wasn’t allowed to have Dick’s attention like that. No one, but Bruce was.

                Bruce had wanted to badly to march onto the dance floor and pull Dick away from Slade, but it had been him that’d said they couldn’t act like a couple in public. He was the one that made the rule that they had to behave as if nothing had changed between them since Dick had come into his home. He was really starting to wish he’d just given in to Dick’s request to come clean to the public. Then he’d have an excuse to kiss the younger man senseless in front of the ogling eyes of Slade Wilson.

                Even now, As Bruce knelt in front of a very quite Dick, he could feel Slade’s eyes on them. He pretended not to notice how Kate and the man were openly watching them, along with other guests. Slowly, the party started to notice that Bruce Wayne was no longer with his date. The journalists started meandering around looking for him and the one that he’d seen trailing Dick for most of the night was standing nearby with his camera in hand. One wrong move and they’d all get the story they were hoping for. Of course, right now he’d rather have a picture of him and Dick plastered across every tabloid this side of the globe than see the pictures of Dick and Slade that would surly grace their covers in the morning.

                “You should go,” Dick spoke up, startling Bruce from his thoughts, and the older man took note of how dry the boy’s voice sounded. “Kate’s waiting for you. She’s been glaring at me since you sent her with Slade.”

                “She’ll make do. She’s not the one who looks like she could pass out at any second. Or vomit on the floor,” Bruce tried for a light, airy tone but he failed as his own voice came out strained. He wasn’t deaf to the worry laced through his words or blind to the way Dick’s journalist shadow took a picture of him kneeling on the floor and reaching out to touch the younger man’s forehead. “You’re starting to sweat.”

                “It’s hot in here,” Dick complained. “I’ll be fine. Just need some fresh air.”

                “I’ll take you outside,” Bruce went to stand but was abruptly stopped when Dick practically sprang from the chair to stop him.

                “No,” Dick wobbled a bit and Bruce finished standing up so he could steady the boy by placing two firm hands on his shoulders. The bird swallowed harshly, squeezing his eyes shut against the wave of nausea that hit him, before reopening them to lock their gaze on Bruce’s. Bruce was almost shocked at how clear Dick’s eyes were for as drunk as he seemed. It made Bruce wonder if Dick’s condition wasn’t completely real. “You should go to Kate. Midnight’s almost here and people will be looking for a picture of you two kissing when the clock tolls.”

                “But then who would take care of you? You’re in no condition to be left alone.”

                “Alfred will be back soon and Slade can keep me company.”

                Bruce’s hands tightened on Dick’s shoulders at the mention of Wilson. “You don’t need him. You should have never brought him.”

                “He’s my friend, B,” Dick’s voice was almost too soft for Bruce to hear, “and I needed his support tonight.”

                “Bruce?” Kate’s voice was coming from right beside the Wayne patriarch and he glance over his shoulder to see her watching him skeptically. Slade was standing behind her, his hands in the pockets of his pants. He removed one hand as Alfred joined them and took the glass of water Alfred was carrying.

                “Here, pretty bird,” Slade was moving past both Kate and Bruce now and Bruce’s jaw clenched as Dick pulled his hands of his shoulders.

                “Thank you,” Dick graciously took the glass of water from Slade and sipped at it as Bruce continued to watch him.

                “Bruce?” Kate prompted again. “It’s nearing midnight.”

                “I know,” the patriarch’s voice came out rough and his date bristled.

                “It’s not polite to keep a lady waiting, Mr. Wayne,” Slade wore a smirk that Brue knew was meant to taunt him. “Go. Dance. I’ll take care of the pretty bird.”

                “Go, Bruce,” Dick, himself, urged. “Go have fun.”

                “We should have time for one more dance before the countdown starts,” Kate spoke softly and Bruce realized she was worried he’d speak harshly to her again.

                “Mister Wilson, I believe it would be best if Master Dick were escorted to his room. Would you assist me in the matter?” Alfred inquired.

                “Sure thing,” Slade slipped an arm around Dick’s waist and Bruce felt his blood run cold as Dick leaned into the older man. “If it’s not too much trouble, I think I’ll stay with him for a while after we get him upstairs. Wouldn’t want him choking on his own vomit once he passes out.”

                “I’m not going to pass out,” Dick retorted with a snort. “I told you, I’m not drunk.”

                “I know, I know,” Slade humored, “You’re just tipsy.”

                “Yes,” Dick’s nod was much too slow and Slade pulled his body even closer so that the younger man’s weight was being mostly supported by Slade.

                “I’ll take him upstairs,” Bruce went to grab hold of Dick’s wrist but Dick pulled away harshly. He stumbled backwards before tripping over the chair and falling over onto the floor.

                “Dick!” Both Slade and Bruce said at the same time. They found themselves simultaneously rushing to the fallen boy’s side and kneeling in unison.

                “Dickie,” Bruce’s  eyes filled with concern as Dick looked up at him with a confused gaze.

                “Okay, maybe I’m a little more than tipsy,” Dick admitted, to which Slade chuckled.

                “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you, pretty bird.”

                “Stop calling him that,” the growled words came from Bruce. “He’s not a prized canary.”

                At that Slade raised a brow and Dick groaned. The blue bird wanted to sink into the floor and disappear before Slade’s next words were even out of his mouth. He knew the look the older man was giving Bruce all too well and knew that the words he was about to speak would be meant to provoke Bruce.

                “No, but he sings so wonderfully when he’s in my bed.”

                Dick hadn’t known so many shades of red existed before he saw them layer themselves upon Bruce’s face. The palest pink came first, then a rose red, and then a cherry red, and soon enough his mentor was as bright as a fire truck and imaginary steam was pouring out of his ears.

                “You fucker!” Bruce lunged at Slade, knocking the other man over, and an array of lights went off as journalists took picture after picture of the two brawling men.

                “Master Bruce!” Alfred scolded from the sideline. “Mister Wilson! This is behavior is not becoming of gentlemen!”

                “Shit,” Dick cursed as he shuffled into a sitting position. Bruce had Slade pinned and was landing a punch right across his face. Slade’s legs came up to lock around Bruce and flip him a way that Dick had often done while sparing. It was a move he’d perfected over his years in the field as Robin and Nightwing.

                As the two men fought, Dick’s eyes roamed upward. A circle of journalists had formed around him, Bruce, and Slade. Photograph after photograph were being taken and Kate Willton stood by looking more scandalized than a twelve-year-old boy who’d just walked in on his mother shaving. Alfred was the only person who didn’t look shocked or excited by Bruce’s outburst. Instead he stood with his arms neatly folded behind his back and his head shaking ever so softly. When his eyes caught Dick’s, he forced a sad sort of smile before moving to help his second ward off the floor.

                “Alfred, this is all my fault,” Dick stated as he thought about tomorrow’s headlines. This party was supposed to fix the mess he’d made by kissing Bruce on the cheek in public. Now things were only going to get worse as he was sure every news source in town would be spitting out a story about how billionaire Bruce Wayne attacked a guest for getting too close to his precious Richard Grayson. The media was going to eat this night up and Bruce would be left with a pile of accusations that’d take him months to fix.

                Not only would the tabloids be Dick’s fault but if Wayne stock holders caught wind of the evening’s events they could lose their trust in their CEO. What would it look like to them to see the head of the Wayne empire wrestling a guy at his party? Dick felt his stomach churn at the thought. He’d screwed up big time. There was no way Bruce would be okay with this. It was going to lead to them arguing again for sure. Would Bruce end things between them permanently because Dick screwed up so bad? It’d be easier for him if he did. He wouldn’t have to worry about saving face if there was nothing to save face from and Dick could go back to Bludhaven for a while, until things cooled down. Just long enough for some other celebrity to start a scandal that rivaled his own.

                “Master Dick,” Alfred began, but Dick didn’t want to hear what he had to say. Whether the butler was going to confirm or deny Dick’s words, he didn’t care. He just wanted to get out of the room -out of the manor -and leave the lime-light behind. He couldn’t think. He couldn’t breath. The air had become too think and Bruce’s once pristine white shirt now had crimson spots on it, just as there was a crimson river trickling out of gash in Slade’s lower lip. He let go of Alfred’s helpful hand and ran.

                Dick ran out of the manor and half way down the drive before he stopped to catch his breath. Jason’s car was beside him and he rested a hand on it for support. He could still hear the people inside. Whether they were cheering or chiding he couldn’t tell.

                The night breeze felt good against his heated skin and he closed his eyes as he slid down to rest on the gravel of the driveway. His back was pressed to the driver side door of Jason’s car and his arms came up to wrap themselves around his bent knees. How could he be so stupid? Bringing Slade to the party had been a bad idea. He should have come alone. Then none of this would have happened.

                “Dick?”

                “Dick?”

                Two voices called out in the night and they sounded distant enough that Dick could tell they were far closer to the manor than to him.

                “Yo, Dickhead, you out here?” Jason’s voice. Dick recognized it, just as he’d recognized the second voice as Tim’s. “Were the fuck did he go?”

                “He has to be here somewhere,” Tim stated. “Alfred said he came in Slade’s car, so he couldn’t have gotten far.”

                “Tt. Especially in his inebriated state.” Oh, god, Damian. He’d forgotten that Damian would be at the party. He hadn’t even seen the kid while inside, though he guessed that didn’t shock him since the youngest Wayne was no fan of the events his father often dragged him to.

                “Let’s spread out,” Tim suggested. “Damian, you take the right side of the drive, I’ll take the left, and Jason you…”

                “Go down the middle? What you think he’s hiding in the fountain or something?” Dick could hear the eye roll in Jason’s voice.

                “I was going to say, you come with me. Or you can go back inside and try to pull Bruce of Slade,” Tim’s annoyance was obvious and their voices were getting closer.

                “Tt. As if Todd could accomplish such a feat,” Damian taunted.

                “You know what, squirt…” Jason trailed off and then, “Hey! Isn’t that Dick?”

                Fucking, hell, they’d spotted him. He should have slipped around to the other side of Jason’s car before they had the chance to see him. It would have been a pitiful attempt at hiding, but it’d been something.

                “Dick?” Tim’s voice was much, much closer now and Dick could hear the light dusting of snow that was on the gravel crunching beneath the boy’s hurried steps. Soon, the shorter bird was taking a knew beside his older brother. Jason and Damian stood behind and to either side of him. “We saw you run and Alfred told us you said this was all your fault. You know that’s not true, right?”

                “It’s Bruce’s fault,” Jason chimed in. “Fucking asshat needs to get his head out of his ass and man up to your relationship. None of this would have happened if he’d just told the damn truth.”

                “None of this would have happened if I hadn’t brought Slade as my date,” Dick grumbled.

                “While there may be some truth to that statement, Grayson, this chaos is not all your doing. Father had his part in it as well and, I do believe it was a far bigger part than yours,” Damian stated.

                “No one blames you for this this, Dick,” Tim’s voice was soft, like he was speaking to a scared child or an injured animal. “What Slade said in there was out of line. He’d been pushing the enevelope all night, talking about you in such sexual ways. You know that. But Bruce’s could have reacted better. He didn’t have to attack him.”

                “I would have,” Jason admitted.

                “Not helping, Jay,” Tim chided.

                An unamused snort came from Jason before he said, “So what? It’s the truth. If some asshole had been saying the stuff about you that Slade was saying about Dick, I’d have jumped him to. I’m not saying Bruce was right, and fuck I can’t even believe I’m saying this, but all I’m saying is that I get where he was coming from. No one wants to hear someone talk about their lover like that. Would you?”

                “What?”

                “If Roy came up to you and said that he loved how I sucked his cock, would you honestly be okay with that?”

                “Well, no, but I wouldn’t attack him.”

                “You sure? Even if you saw him and I getting it on while dancing and he wouldn’t shut up about our sexual exploits?”

                “I wouldn’t attack him,” Tim reiterated with a sigh and then admitted, “but I might have poisoned his drink.”

                “Ha, you see!” Jason exclaimed. “Bruce’s reaction was completely normal.”

                “I have to agree with Drake’s earlier statement,” Damian interrupted. “You are not helping, Todd.”

                Then Damian was sinking to the ground beside Dick and his tiny arms were slipping awkwardly around Dick’s frame. They squeezed him just enough to apply pressure and Dick knew that Damian was trying to comfort him.

                “You once told me that Father could be difficult to deal with and I’ve learned that is sometimes an understatement,” Damian spoke slowly, deliberately. “Father is at times unruly. Raw, like an angered nerve. He does not handle emotion well, but he always seems to try his hardest when you are involved. I am not making excuses for him. I know that his behavior tonight is far from what is considered acceptable by social standards, but he needs you to go back inside. You are his anchor, Grayson. You keep him grounded and put together in a way that nothing else can. It doesn’t matter who is to blame for tonight’s events. Honestly, I believe it to be a game of jealousy that got out of hand. It doesn’t matter the outcome, right now. Wat matters is that you and father remember that going into tonight you both had the best intentions. You both wanted to…”

                “But I didn’t have the best intentions,” Dick cut the child off. “I did at first, when I wasn’t going to bring a date, but then I let the thought of Bruce and Kate get the best of me and I sought out to make him jealous. I didn’t know he was going to attack Slade, and I didn’t know Slade was going to be so blunt with him about out past together, but I did mean to tear a reaction from him. And because of that, this is my fault.”

                Damian shook his head. “Stop blaming yourself. We don’t have time for you and father to play through your argument cycle. This matter needs to be handled now. You can’t argue with him, blame yourself, leave, and then not come back until you think things have cleared up enough that you can fix things with him. You need to skip straight to the fixing things part.”

                “Damian’s right,” Tim spoke up once more. “Tomorrow morning there’s going to be a headline that none of us want to read and we, at this point, we can’t change that. However, you can change how you’re reacting to situation now. The photos the media have gotten tonight can’t be erased, you bringing Slade can’t be undone, and Bruce’s actions can’t be forgotten, but you can control how you are going to handle tomorrow morning. If you leave now, then you and Bruce will be waking up on separate sides of Gotham to read what could be the worst headline either of you have ever read. You’d have to eat your eggs, drink your coffee, and cope with the situation alone while dealing with not having the other beside you. Yet, if you stay and go back inside then you can fix things with Bruce and face the tabloids together. Like a couple should.”

                “Baby bird’s right,” Jason agreed. “The choice is yours. If you want to leave, then we won’t stop you. I’ll even drive you home, seeing as you’re in no condition to operate a vehicle.”

                “Don’t go, Grayson,” Damian’s arms tightened around Dick. “If you do, father will be unbearable in the morning.”

                Dick chuckled at Damian’s words before reaching up and messing up the boy’s gelled hair. The child’s dark strands were hard form the hair products but they still twisted beneath Dick’s ministrations.

                “Okay, little D. I’ll stay,” Dick breathed out, “but someone’s going to have to help me up.”

                Both Tim and Jason held out a hand for Dick to take and they helped him off the ground once Damian disentangled himself from his mentor.

                “I guess I should go find Bruce,” Dick shifted uncomfortably. His hands found their way to his pockets and he wobbled just enough while standing that Damian felt compelled to reach a hand out to steady the older boy.

                “That shouldn’t be too hard,” Jason informed. “I doubt he’s gotten far from where we left him.”

                The walk back inside went quicker than Dick wanted it to, he tried hard to walk as slow as possible but his brother kept urging him forward. He had a feeling they feared he’d bolt if they getting him back inside the manor while they had the chance. Once inside, Dick glanced around and realized that everyone was once against smiling. Champagne flutes were full and a large scree was displaying the New Year’s count down. There was only three minutes left in the year and Dick didn’t know where his date or his boyfriend had gone off too. It turned out that he didn’t have to wonder for long for Slade soon slid up behind him and wrapped his arms around his waist.

                “Hey, pretty bird.”

                Dick blinked up at the man who’s left eye was swelling up to the size of golf ball.

                “Hey, Slade. Thanks for coming with me tonight,” Dick casually slipped out of Slade’s arms, “but do you know where Bruce is? I think I need to talk to him.”

                “Yeah, I think you do too,” Slade admitted with a small smile. “Alfred made him sit in the chair you were in before. He’s icing his head. I knocked him into an art pedestal.”

                “Go get ‘em,” Jason prompted when Dick didn’t make a move to find Bruce.

                “What am I supposed to say?” Dick inquired.

                “Don’t worry about it, you’ve never been short of words before,” Tim grinned and pushed Dick forward.

                Dick didn’t say anything else as the timer on the screen flashed that there was one a minute and a half left of 2016. He moved through the crowd easily enough and found Bruce right where Slade said he’d be. Sitting in the chair Dick had previously occupied and holding a bag of ice to his head. His eyes were down cast and Alfred was nowhere in sight but Dick was sure the butler had given Bruce a good talking to.

                “Bruce?” Dick’s voice came out timid as he cautiously approached his boyfriend.

                Bruce’s head shot up and a sad smile graced his lips when he saw Dick. “Richard.”

                “Bruce, I’m sorry…” Dick began but was interrupted when Bruce blurted out at the same time, “I’m sorry.”

                Both men looked away from the other in embarrassment for a moment before Bruce was removing the ice from his head and standing. He approached Dick with the grace of a trained dancer and pulled the shorter male to him.

                Dick sighed as the smell for Bruce’s cologne meant his nose. His head was tucked beneath his lover’s chin and his hands were trapped between their chests, grasping fistfuls of Bruce’s suit jacket. Bruce began to rub soothing circles on Dick’s back.

                “I went about this all wrong,” the patriarch whispered.

                “We both did,” Dick confessed.

                Dick thought the movement of Bruce’s jaw meant that he was nodding, until he felt a soft pair of lips brush against his forehead. 

                “Is it too late to come out to the public?” Bruce’s question caused Dick’s heart to pulse.

                “Bruce, I’d love to, but we don’t have to. I know you’d prefer to keep us a secret.”

                “I don’t think that goal is attainable any more. In case you missed it, I tackled a guy for talking about having you in his bed. No one’s going to believe there’s nothing between us now.”

                Dick could hear the guest around them starting to cheer as the New Years count down flashed with thirty seconds remaining. “So what are going to do about it?”

                “I’ve spent too much of 2016 hiding us. I’m done with that.”

                “We’re going to be on the tabloids a lot in 2017. Aren’t we?” Dick laughed.

                “Most likely,” Bruce chuckled.

                “…7...6…” The crowd chanted.

                “…5…4…” Bruce chimed in with the crowd, though his voice was soft enough that only Dick could hear him.

                “…3…2…” Dick grinned.

                “…1…” Both men said in unison and just as the number left Dick’s lips confetti rained down around them as Bruce dove in to capture Dick’s lips with his own. Their mouths moved together easily as party poppers and noise makers went off around them. Confetti and glitter landed in their air. Strings of colored paper draped itself over their shoulders. Cameras flashed and People yelled New Year’s greetings.

                Somewhere, in the back of their minds, Dick and Bruce knew that the media was getting the picture they’d been hoping for all night as Bruce’s hands moved down to cup Dick’s ass. Dick moaned into his mouth. His parted lips offered entrance for Bruce’s tongue and he threw his arms around the taller man’s shoulders to press himself closer to the man he loved.

                Off to the side, Alfred stood with a smile on his face while a smug looking Damian stood beside him. Tim and Jason were nowhere to be seen, but that was because the duo had snuck into a corner to share their New Year’s kiss privately.

                “Happy New Years, Richard,” Bruce broke his and Dick’s kiss to say but didn’t move any further away from the boy than was necessary. He chose to rest his forehead atop Dick’s and grinned when Dick’s cerulean eyes locked with his.

                “Happy New Years, Bruce,” Dick responded before connecting their lips again.


End file.
